


Pieces

by yukiscorpio



Category: The Last Remnant
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-22
Updated: 2013-09-22
Packaged: 2017-12-27 08:18:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/976545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yukiscorpio/pseuds/yukiscorpio
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If the only person who knew a secret died, did that secret cease to exist?</p><p>If knowledge of someone's existence was erased, had that person ever lived?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pieces

**Author's Note:**

> Spoiler warning: this is set after the game.
> 
> Originally published on LJ on 19 May 2011.

Terror gripped him completely and utterly.

He knew what the Gae Bolg did. He had seen his father use it, saw it kill his father, even. When he put his hand on Kellendros and exchanged contract with it, it was only because he wanted to try and believe in what his father believed in.

The first time he fired the Gae Bolg, he was fourteen-years-old and he was petrified. Knowing something, seeing it, and experiencing it, those were very different things. When he witnessed the amount of destruction left behind, he told himself never to trust or bind any more Remnants for the rest of his life.

 

"So the Valeria Heart stablises the ground or something?"

David turned his head to look at Rush.

"People in the pub told me a story," Rush explained, shrugging. "Something about earthquakes in Athlum until a giant sword appeared."

"That is the legend," responded David, his gaze fixed on the colossal sword-shaped Remnant from their vantage point in the castle and ignoring the curious look his friend gave him. Rush was probably hoping for more of an explanation, but he didn't know that David did not discuss his Remnants. None of the lords did. Not the effects of the binding, nor what powers they were truly capable of. "It is true that there have been no recorded quakes since the Valeria Heart is at its current location."

"So if it got moved..."

"It would not," David turned around and walked back indoors, "unless I command it to."

Or if a Marshall interfered. David was keeping his enemies close. He liked the Sykes, wanted to help them, somehow knew that he must. It wasn't just for the sake of Athlum, but for what, he could not say. He could not even say if they were friend or foe, if the Mashalls, now guests under his roof, would one day try to take the Remnants from him. He did not know what the Marshalls were capable of, but he had read about a lesser-known version of the legend of the Kingdom of Glenys, in which Marion Marshall condemned thousands to their deaths by moving the Tao Tie.

And then there was that tablet, a creation of the Marshalls, now in Wagram's hands.

"Sorry, I don't mean that you're going to suddenly uproot Valeria Heart or anything like that," Rush followed David inside.

David decided to shift the focus from himself to Rush. "You are the son of the world-famous Remnant researchers, and yet you don't seem to know very much," he commented, half curious, half suspicious.

Rush scratched the back of his neck. He did that when he was nervous. "I was born in Elysion but we moved to Eulam when I was still a kid. I guess Mum and Dad wanted us to know as little as possible. Look what happened to Irina when people found out what she can do."

"I see."

"Anyway... I'm going to go and check on dad. Later."

David smiled, nodded and watched Rush literally run away from this uncomfortable conversation.

 

He came to the conclusion that Emma never suspected Rush.

The fact that she suggested for David to take Rush and Pagus with him to the Nest of Eagles, and let her remain in Athlum alone, was purely because she believed it would be a better strategy.

Perhaps her friendship with Marina Sykes had clouded her judgment.

David did not doubt Emma. And he would not. She was dead now, it made very little difference.

He had long conversations with Torgal and Pagus about the Sykes. They knew that Marina Sykes was Oswald Hermeien's daughter, and Oswald was ousted from his seat as the Lord of Nagapur by his son Wilfred Hermeien. So was all of this an elaborate plot to remove Wilfred Hermeien and reinstate Oswald to power?

But how did the Conqueror fit into the picture then?

The generals advised David to accept the Sykes. They understood their lord's suspicion but there really was no need to worry.

But David never told them about the time when Rush asked him about the Valeria Heart. He could not. They would conclude that Rush had a role in the Remnant's theft, that he was the Conqueror's spy. Then Rush's life would be forfeit.

David could not trust Rush, but he still wanted to protect him.

 

Back in Athlum, soon after Gwayn blew away most of Nagapur in a sea of flames, David went to Rush one night.

"May I come in?"

Rush's welcoming smile faded slightly when David locked the door behind him.

"What's going on?" He looked at David's left hand, which was holding a sheathed sword.

David chose to stand in the middle of the room. "I will give you one chance," he said, looking up from his feet to his friend. "Tell me the truth."

"A-about what?"

David paced, slow and deliberate, walking half a circle around Rush. "Remnants. The Marshalls. The Conqueror. You."

Rush took a step back. His face started to flush almost immediately, and his brows knotted. "I don't know-"

"You could come clean now, or you could do it later when this blade is against Irina's throat."

Rush became completely still. "I didn't think you'd ever stoop that low."

David did not respond.

After a while, Rush turned his head away, choosing to look at a wall instead. "You don't have it in you."

"You would wager your family's lives on that assumption?"

"Can't you keep trusting me?" Rush's fists were clenched. "You never asked questions. Not when Emma and I went by ourselves to find my mum. Not when Irina ran off to Darken Forest. You never asked why. Can't we just keep it that way?"

"Not anymore."

"Why?"

"Because I cannot be in love with you and not even know what you are!"

 

Rush never did explain anything. David understood that his feelings meant nothing to Rush at all.

He felt like a fool to still allow Rush to be part of the company. He told himself he was simply keeping his enemy close.

 

But after returning from the trip to Undelwalt to see the God Emperor, when David made the mental preparations to see Rush again, this time unarmed, it was Rush who found him first.

"Do you want to bind one more Remnant?"

Rush could no longer hide the truth from those he knew had already put the pieces together.

He wanted David to have the power to stop him, just in case.

"You are a cruel man, Rush," said David as the light of luminescence bathed them both.

 

Rush kissed him afterwards. David did not know if it was some sort of ceremony or compensation.

 

To bind a Remnant, and to use a Remnant's power, one must pay a price. For smaller Remnants that were scattered all over the world, binding them might just cause a moment of breathlessness. Using a core Remnant such as the Gae Bolg shortened one's life, this David learned just before the binding, when Kellendros gave him one last chance to back out. But what was the price for binding to Rush?

It was to feel his heart falling to pieces as he stood and watched Rush sacrifice himself.

He had the power to stop Rush but he could not do it. To do that would be to betray Rush. And he had already done it once by not trusting him.

This was the price to pay.

This was the price to pay.

 

Irina went home with her parents. Athlum welcomed the end of the war. There were so many celebrations to attend, so many public statements to prepare.

David sat at his desk, the nip of his fountain pen pressed on the paper. The ink bled out like blood soaking into clothing.

"Lord David?" Torgal went over and asked when he noticed David had not moved for a while.

David looked up at him. His eyes were wide, confused.

"I... I cannot remember anything. How did we win the war?"

 

There were two long scars in the ground of the Town Square.

_"In a time rocked by peril, even the earth itself trembled from its ferocity, until one day all evil was stilled by a giant blade, thrust by the gods."_

Such was the legend. The people liked to say that these scars were left behind by this blade.

But of course such a thing never existed. It was just a tale from the storybooks.

 

There was a war. Someone who fashioned himself as a "conqueror" gathered an army and tried to take over the lands. Nagapur suffered greatly, the trail of destruction having blazed through its city like wildfire. Lord Wilfred Hermeien became a casualty of war. At first, weary from the scars of the Holy War, the God Emperor advised to not aggravate the Conqueror, hoping to find a way to appease him, but the rogue army only grew stronger. When it marched into Elysion, the lords decided enough was enough.

This was all that could be pieced together from the documents. It was as if David and his generals had collective amnesia. Who was the Conqueror? They killed him in the final battle, apparently, but how? _He killed Emma_ and they could not even recall his face! This was simply impossible. Had they encountered a sorcerer, or perhaps one of those fabled memory-consuming fiends during their return journey?

They did not dare to let anyone know, lest Athlum be made a fool of. Fortunately, their version of events seemed to match with what the other lords also said, and so it would be how it was to be written in the history books.

After a Congress session, in which they discussed the immediate futures of Nagapur and Elysion, Lord Qubine paid David a visit at the embassy and they had afternoon tea together.

They talked a little about Athlum's transition into an independent state. Then, after a long moment of silence, Qubine asked, staring at his own reflection in his tea cup:

"Do you have the feeling that we have forgotten something very important?"

 

Unlike the earlier notes from when the Conqueror's threat first reared its head, the notes from Athlum's high level meetings in the past few months were heavily coded. The code itself they could all understand, but what they could not glean from the notes was what exactly they were talking about.

There was a "force", one which the Conqueror possessed and they could not fight. If the force had a name, they did not put it down. It was not something that could go on even coded record.

But at least the codenames were familiar: "Spear" was David, "Sword" Emmy, "Iris" Pagus, "Hero" Blocter, and "Steel" Torgal.

There was also someone by the codename "Cyclops", but nobody could tell who it was.

 

David and his generals attended a victory celebration at the Warrior's Honour, mostly because of a promise to visit that had been left unfulfilled for too long. The pub was small and the crowd spilled out onto the pavement outside; it felt like the whole of Virtus Parish had turned up.

David could not truly relax, but he tried his best just like the rest of them did. The end of a war was worth celebrating, even if he could remember little of said war.

Perched on a stool at the bar, David sipped his drink slowly. There were more people offering to buy him drinks than he would be able to handle. Out of the corner of his eyes, Emmy was talking with other people about her mother, trying to learn what she had forgotten. She had been in a terrible state since their return from Elysion; David could not blame her.

"Hey now, how old are you?"

A young mitra boy had wormed his way through the crowd to the bar. Not one, two of them. Twins. They were tall, but looked no older than fifteen.

David's breath caught.

One of the boys rested an elbow on the bar, startlingly pale skin against dark, polished wood. He was not fazed. "I just want to buy that man a drink," he put down some money on the bar and then jutted a thumb at David, "does it matter how old I am?"

"Lord David-"

"It's fine." David upended his drink. "Let him."

The bartender poured him a glass of dark gold liquid. He tipped the glass and watched it swirl for a little while, enjoying its scent before finally taking a sip. "Thank you."

Just as he lowered the glass, ready to make polite conversation, the boy walked over to him and cupped his cheek with a hand.

David froze. The boy's smile was gentle, edged with playfully sinister.

As the bartender gasped, the twin, who stood close by but stayed silent all the while, tugged on the boy's arm. The boy's fingertips slid softly across David's cheek, stroking the jaw, before letting go.

The touch was familiar. David could not react. The boy walked away with his twin, chuckling when something was whispered to him.

"I know, I know... I've just always wanted to know how that'd feel..."

"Those two are going to become very fine young men in a few years. But my, aren't the youth so _forward_ these days!" said the bartender. "Lord David? Are you all right? They are your friends?"

"Yes... I know them."

He knew them. But who were they?

 

They opened the door.

The Sykes's suites had been cleaned and tidied since their departure, but the staff found another set of rooms that had been used.

There had been no guests at Athlum Castle except for Irina and her parents. The staff were frightened, crying poltergeist.

David glanced at Pagus. "Please leave me to this."

There were personal items. Clothes. Weapons. A used towel, a hair comb. An unmade bed, an indentation on the pillow. A short blue jacket draped over the back of a chair, a white ramskull design on its sleeve.

A face flashed across David's mind, a smile, a familiar laughter, the images and sounds too fast for him to catch, leaving behind only emotions of what was no longer there, like an impression of furniture on old carpet.

Somebody once slept here, someone who _mattered_.

"Lord David?" Pagus's voice called outside. David tried to answer, then realised his throat had knotted up and his vision had blurred. He coughed, wiped his eyes and tried again.

"Yes?"

"I just received a letter from Miss Irina. I think you will want to take a look."

 

Irina's letter began with the usual greetings, followed by, "do you know someone called Rush?"

They found a room in their Eulam home, full of personal belongings, as if someone had lived there a long time, maybe even all his life. There were old homework and letters, and from those they learned that this person's name was Rush. There were even little notes that Irina had written to Rush herself.

But there was no "Rush" in the family. She didn't even have any cousin by that name.

"I know you must be very busy and I don't want to bother you but this is driving us crazy. We can't sleep at night, we keep trying to think but our minds are blank. We can't remember about this "Rush", mum and dad can't remember what they do for a living, and this is embarrassing but I can't even remember how I met you, the other generals and Mister David, or why I was in Athlum during the war. Most of our lives are gone. Something is wrong with us. What should we do?"

 

Nothing was wrong with Irina, David thought. Something was wrong with the world.

 

After the immediate aftermath of the war was taken care of, David took a vacation. He would stay in a house in the suburbs, at a quaint village that somehow grabbed his attention during a recent journey to Dillmore.

Everyone agreed this was a good idea. David had tried too hard to understand the details behind Emma's death. He had spent too many nights in the haunted suite, feeling his heart twist over something he had no memory of. He had spent too long trying to find the twins he met at Warrior's Honour, wanting to know if they were Rush and Cyclops. He felt close to losing his mind.

The generals stayed in Athlum to look after state matters; David could protect himself well enough. He brought with him nothing but books to keep him company.

He was a fast reader, and when he ran out of novels he bought more from the local book shop, a labyrinth of a store that was probably as old as the village itself. When he was in its deepest bowels, trying to read off the spines of books by only light from a visistone, he could forget about the mysteries that had engulfed his life.

On the day he found an umbrella leaning against the shelves whilst navigating his way out, he learned that the skies had opened when he was inside. The shopkeeper did not recognise the item; it must have been left behind by another customer. He suggested for the lord to use it on his way home and return it later.

 

The rain lasted most of the week. On the first day the sun shone again, David went to a cafe and sat outside, enjoying the early summer. The umbrella stood leaning against his table; the shopkeeper said the owner told him he didn't want it back.

The few tables all had vases. Someone went around and put fresh-cut flowers in them.

Lavender-coloured petals.

There was once, in Nagapur, when David gave a flower just like this to someone, his heart in his throat, hoping the recipient would see the second meaning, at the same time wanting his feelings to remain unnoticed.

He whipped around. A couple was walking into a cafe, hand in hand. An old man was sitting on a bench, reading the newspaper and nodding off. A young man was pushing a cart full of hay down the street.

Nobody that David could recognise. That person was not here.

 

If the only person who knew a secret died, did that secret cease to exist?

If knowledge of someone's existence was erased, had that person ever lived?

 

The fair weather did not last. Rain poured again as soon as David arrived home. Next to his house, a mitra stood at the threshold of his home, a hood pulled low over his face in popular Balterossan fashion, waiting for the rain to cease. David went over to him.

"Here." He offered the mitra man his umbrella. The man was hesitant. "You don't need to return it."

There was a pause. "Thanks."

"You are welcome."

 

 _His partner trembled, hands pushing feebly in a last-ditch effort to resist him before giving in and grabbing David by the front of his shirt and pulling him close. David crushed their lips together, tongue delving inside straight away. He was a man and he had his desires and right now he_ wanted _._

_Breathing quickened. David broke the kiss only so that he could see what his hands were doing, undoing the fastening on their clothes as fast as he could, pulling off his own jacket, then working on his partner's, first unbuckling the short jacket, then he removed the - laced, how annoying - vest, followed by - just how many layers were there? - the body armour, to finally get to the white shirt underneath. He lifted that over his partner's head, then received the same treatment._

_David's mouth latched onto that neck. Head tilted to one side a bit, allowing him better access. The muscular body still trembled, but out of excitement, not fear, when David's hands roamed over it. He had longed to touch this body. Someone moaned, he wasn't sure if that was him or his partner._

_Bending his knees, David kissed his way down the chest, his tongue gliding over a nipple, and he began work on removing the trousers._

_His partner breathed in short gasps, enjoying the ministrations. Hands rested on David's head, tugging on the hair when David pushed every bit of clothing away and let his mouth touch, kiss, suck on what was revealed._

_"Dave..."_

 

His heartbeat loud in his ears, David lay awake for a few minutes, then gave up and stroked himself.

He could not tell if what he dreamt ever actually happened, but the jacket his partner wore in the dream had a white ramskull design on one of its sleeves.

 

His neighbour lived alone. Sometimes at night he would stand, arms folded on the window ledge, for hours, until David approached his own window. His neighbour would retreat deeper inside the house then and the lights would go out.

The houses along this street were built so close together that if David reached out, he could the touch the vase of lavender-coloured flowers his neighbour kept by the window.

 

David knew it was raining even before he made his way out the book shop, because he picked up the same umbrella at the same place again.

 

It was time for David to return to the castle. He told his generals he was not ready yet and wished to stay for just a little while longer.

 

He knocked on the door. The lights were on but no one answered.

"I will leave it outside. Thank you." He let the umbrella lean against the doorframe. "If you feel ready to talk... I am capable of simple domestic tasks like making tea."

 

His neighbour's window was shut, curtains drawn closed.

David made a mug of tea and left it on his windowsill, then stretched his arm out to knock on the opposite window. When he returned later, his neighbour had turned his lights off and the mug was clean, holding a gift for David.

Teased by the breeze, the cut flower danced along the rim of the mug, tickling the edges of David's memories.

 

For someone so willowy, the boy ran quite fast. David chased him down a side street and then down shadowed alleys before catching up with him.

The boy screamed when David grabbed him by the shoulder, legs bucking under him. David let go at once, going down on one knee. "I only want to talk to you. Why are you so afraid?"

"It wasn't my fault! He made me do it!"

This boy's voice was deeper. He was the twin who did not speak when they met at the pub. He was alone when David spotted him, and ran when David went over to him.

"Who made you do what?" David softened his voice, shuffling back a little. There was no need to corner someone so frightened. "What is your name?"

The boy avoided his eyes. "I didn't want to do it..."

Evaluating the situation, David stood up and offered his hand. The boy was not answering his questions and would probably say only what he was ready to say.

When they were both on their feet, a third person entered the alley, his shadow stretched long by the sinking sun.

"I take my eyes off you for just one minute and you run off..." A face identical to the boy's. The new arrival was sighing, strolling towards his twin, footsteps slowing when he saw David.

David wasn't sure what to say. "I seemed to have frightened him. My apologies. I only wanted to talk."

The reply he received was a worried frown. The boy who just turned up went to his equal and kissed him on the temple. "Come on," he said, hooking their arms together and tugging once, "we should go."

"Wait! Who are you?"

The pair stopped and looked at David, but said nothing. Then the one who arrived later asked the other, "since we're here, have you told him yet?"

 

_"We're sorry."_

_"What about?"_

_"Doesn't matter. We just want to say it now that we finally can."_

David turned the words over and over in his head. An apology that they previously could not give for something he could not remember. Why could they not say it before? And what was the apology for - something they were made to do? If they were Cyclops, were they the Conqueror's spies who made everyone forget in order to save themselves? Did David hate them or had he already forgiven them?

No. They could not be Cyclops. Those boys were too weak. Cyclops was the one who slept in that room in the castle, the one who wore that ramskull design, the one whose smile David had forgotten but longed to see again.

He twirled the flower he received the night before between his fingers, watching it spin.

Cyclops was-

He screamed when a sudden pain pierced through his skull, slashed across his brain and splintered his vision.

One hand over his right eye and the other over his heart, he staggered towards the door, but collapsed like a broken doll, knees first, followed by a shoulder, then his head landed heavily on the tiled floor. The impact was almost welcomed, the pain momentarily numbing the wrenching in his soul, as if something was being torn from him - or had it already happened? He had experienced this before, but this was far stronger.

A great sword that soared towards the sky, a silent guardian who tried to protect Emma.

Immeasurable strength. A cannon that had a mind of its own. The destroyer that killed his father.

_"It wasn't my fault! He made me do it!"_

A golden gun so powerful that David's body reverberated in pain every time it was used.

_"We're sorry."_

A living weapon, the most dangerous secret. The one that David feared most of all, yet wished to have forever.

_"I can't let you die! I won't!"_

 

David stumbled out of his house and went to the nearest store. The date on the newspaper informed him he had passed out for two days.

His head still reeled, his thirst and hunger so strong he thought he would collapse again. Food, water and medicinal herbs were easy to obtain, but the pain was slow to subside.

It was a different kind of aching, now.

He returned to his house to find a note in the letter box.

_Abandon your search. You may not survive next time._

The silent guardian was not so silent, after all.

 

The twins had left the village two days ago. David wanted to tell them he never blamed them. Everything they had done, the Nassaus made them do. Weapons alone could not kill. His father knew the consequences when he pulled the trigger one last time.

That was the truth. But he did not know why he knew, nor could he understand what he knew.

 

The house next door was empty. The young mitra man was a hunter hired by the village to deal with nearby fiends. His job was done and he had moved on.

"He ran away!" a small girl told David. Her grandmother corrected her. "He left in a hurry after he had a visitor. Someone from outside. Something urgent I guess?"

David told himself if he ever found that meddling giant sword, he was going to have a very stern word with it.

 

At the cafe, when a boy went around to fill the vases, David asked him where he got the flowers from.

 

Up the hill, by a small lake. The directions he received were vague at best. By the time he found the field of flowers it was already dusk. The ripples on the lake were ridged with gold. Under this light, the familiar flowers took on a colour that looked almost translucent, surreal. But their scent was still the same.

He closed his eyes and waited.

 

_"Can't you keep trusting me?" "I cannot be in love with you and not even know what you are!"_

_Ramskull, the towncrest of Eulam._

_"Do you want to bind one more Remnant?" "You are a cruel man, Rush."_

_Cyclops, a conjuration from Rush's talisman._

_"I can't let you die! I won't!"_

_The smile he turned around and gave David as the power in his hands peaked, and the entire world trembled._

David jerked awake, half collapsed against something solid and rough. The world was dark, and silent save for the ringing in his ears. He was ice-cold, as if his heart had stopped earlier. The air was knocked out of him by an invisible force, his throat had closed up and his head was about to burst, but he needed to delve back into that void. He didn't see - what happened to Rush? He couldn't have...

As he tried to steady himself, he stumbled forward from the tree that had supported him, his senses gradually returning to the real world.

Then he saw the lights, countless specks of lights on the field, resting on leaves, on petals, on long, thin blades of grass along the edge of the lake.

When he took another step, snapping a dried twig underfoot, the tiny glowflies rose from their perches, filling the air with their green glow like the most magical glowing dust.

David froze, transfixed by the scene before him.

Tears rose.

This was what happened to Rush.

Sacrificed, and then forgotten.

"Rush..." David had to find him. But how should he even begin?

There was a faint rustle. He looked around, and began to smile when a hooded figure appeared from behind a tree.

"You okay?" A familiar voice asked. David could hear the tremor of tension, worry. The hint of tears. "I thought I just saw you die!"

A chuckle. Perhaps he did. But it turned out sometimes people do come back from the dead. David tipped his head to one side and narrowed his eyes. "That look really does not suit you. My battle jacket is far better."

The hood was pushed back. A face emerged from the shadows. Eyes darted to one side. Lips half-pouted. "That... sorta got destroyed when things blew up."

David lifted his chin by a few degrees. "And whose fault was that?"

He received a glare.

"Come then, we need to get you measured if we are to have another made."

The figure approached him, choosing his footing carefully around the flowers.

David did not noticed he was holding his breath until he relaxed in Rush's arms.

He wondered why he ever feared Remnants at all.

 

 

[end]


End file.
